All the citezens fast gan flye,
They durst no longer abyde:
There lyghtly they losed Cloudeslee,115
Where he with ropes lay tyde.
Wyllyam start to an officer of the towne,
Hys axe 'from' hys hand he wronge,
On eche syde he smote them downe,
Hee thought he taryed to long.120
Wyllyam sayde to hys brethren two,
Thys daye let us lyve and die,
If ever you have nede, as I have now,
The same shall you finde by me.
They shot so well in that tyde,125
Theyr stringes were of silke ful sure,
That they kept the stretes on every side;
That batayle did long endure.
They fought together as brethren true,
Lyke hardy men and bolde,130
Many a man to the ground they threw,
And many a herte made colde.
But when their arrowes were all gon,
Men preced[730] to them full fast,
They drew theyr swordès then anone,135
And theyr bowes from them cast.
They went lyghtlye on theyr way,
Wyth swordes and buclers round;
By that it was mydd of the day,
They made many a wound.140
There was an out-horne[731] in Carleil blowen,
And the belles backwàrd dyd ryng,
Many a woman sayde, Alas!
And many theyr handes dyd wryng.
The mayre of Carleile forth com was,145
Wyth hym a ful great route:[732]
These yemen dred hym full sore,
Of theyr lyves they stode in great doute.[733][734]
The mayre came armed a full great pace,
With a pollaxe in hys hande;150
Many a strong man wyth him was,
There in that stowre[735] to stande.